


Speak Low if You Speak Love

by Thistlerose



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Closet Sex, Hair-pulling, Insecurity, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, apparently i'm incapable of pure fluff, i said i owed them smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 13:45:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7510654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are times when Finn catches people looking at him - not everyone, of course, not Poe or General Organa, or some of the other Resistance fighters who've gone out of their way to welcome him - and all of instincts scream <i>Run! Hide!</i></p><p>Poe gets that. He'll back off if Finn asks him to, or if Finn starts to show any real signs of discomfort. He encourages Finn to be himself, but he doesn't try to push him.</p><p>That's one of the reasons Finn doesn't say stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speak Low if You Speak Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coffeeinallcaps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeinallcaps/gifts).



"Someone's going to see us," Finn says as Poe raises his arms, pinning them to the wall above his head. "Or hear us," he adds, as that suddenly strikes him as more likely, given Poe's propensity for chatter, even when his mouth is busy, as it is now, sucking bruises into Finn's neck. 

"D'you want me to stop?" Poe murmurs, his breath tickling Finn's skin. "I can, you know. I can stop kissing you--" He bites delicately at Finn's earlobe, making his breath catch "--any time. All you have to do--" nudging Finn's chin up so he get at the soft underside "--is say the word. And I'll stop. Promise. D'you want me to stop?"

Poe isn't teasing. Well - he is and he isn't. He's all over Finn, from the fingers wrapped loosely around his biceps, to the bent knee nudging his thighs apart. He's acting like they've been separated for a lot longer than eleven days, which is fine - better than, really - except that right now they're in a supply closet just off the main hangar, and sooner or later someone is going to come by looking for a spare Harris wrench, and then what? Poe doesn't seem to care what people think, so long as they follow his commands as Black Leader, but Finn - Finn's not like that. He wants to be, but he can't. Not yet. This whole living outside his armor, outside his helmet, is still too new; he's not used to standing out, to having his thoughts and feelings show nakedly on his face and body. There are times when he catches people looking at him - not everyone, of course, not Poe or General Organa, or some of the other Resistance fighters who've gone out of their way to welcome him - and all of instincts scream _Run! Hide!_

Poe gets that. He'll back off if Finn asks him to, or if Finn starts to show any real signs of discomfort. He encourages Finn to be himself, but he doesn't try to push him.

That's one of the reasons Finn doesn't say stop. 

The other reason - _one_ of the other reasons - is the way Poe is looking at him right now. There's some light, trickling down through a grill set high in the closet door, and Finn can just make out Poe's features: those deep dark eyes crinkling at the corners as they drink up the sight of him, like _he's_ the source of that light; those lips quirked in a wondering sort of smile, almost like he's surprised to find himself in this cramped space with Finn, but it's the luckiest thing that's ever happened to him. Finn still isn't used to this either, this idea that he can be a source of constant amazement for Poe Dameron, a man who seems to have been everywhere in the galaxy and done things Finn never even dreamed of as a stormtrooper. He tries not to think about how it's only been a few weeks, and the novelty has to wear off eventually. Poe, after all, has never given him the impression that it might; when he talks about the future - and he talks about it a lot - it's always _their_ future. It's all, _Can't wait to take you here, Finn_ or _Can't wait to show you this. Can't wait for you to meet so-and-so_. And it's funny because he used to think he didn't have a future; most stormtroopers don't. But the more time he spends with Poe, the more dreamlike - nightmarish, really - his past feels.

He's aware suddenly that he's been quiet for too long. A worried crease appears between Poe's eyebrows and he lets go of Finn's arms. "Do you want me to stop?" he asks again. 

Finn shakes his head.

And Poe kisses him, fitting the tip of his tongue into the corner of Finn's lips, gently teasing them apart. Finn puts his arms around Poe, hugging him even closer, and they make out for a few unhurried minutes, fingers skimming over hair and clothing, undoing snaps and buttons, finding skin. Poe winces slightly when Finn's hands brush his ribs, and Finn pretends he didn't hear it because he knows that's what Poe wants right now, but he does wonder what he'll find when they're in their quarters with the lights on, and he can scrutinize Poe more closely. 

He hates that Poe keeps getting sent out on these dangerous missions, hates it when he comes back hurt, although of course that's infinitely preferable to Poe not coming back at all. Like the ugly pink cicatrix that crosses his own back, Finn hates every reminder that their bodies are fragile, breakable. Maybe that's one of the reasons he doesn't say no when Poe whispers, "Wanna suck you, right here. Wanna make you come. Was all I could think about, once we got the intel. Your dick in my mouth. Was thinking about it during the debriefing. Want you so bad. Want you to fuck my mouth…"

 _General Organa is Force-sensitive,_ Finn thinks, mildly horrified - and impressed with Poe's boldness. But what he gasps out is, "Yeah - _please_ \--"

And then Poe is kissing his way down Finn's body, deft hands peeling back his shirt and his trousers, tugging down his underwear and freeing his erection. _Oh, we are going to get caught,_ Finn thinks, but he's reached the point where he almost doesn't care. He loves what Poe is doing to him: lapping at his nipples, his navel; palming his cock, the callused heel of his palm making stars sizzle in his belly. And probably he loves Poe, for this and for everything that he is, everything he's done for Finn since they met on the _Finalizer_ all those months ago. But he's not ready to say it out loud. He's tried, but the words always twist in his throat, and he wonders if there's something wrong with him that he can't say it, something _more_ wrong than having spent most of his life as a stormtrooper.

Then Poe takes him in his mouth and he forgets - everything.

Well. He remembers to breathe, but just barely. He remembers that they're in a storage closet within shouting distance of the main hangar, so he needs to _not shout_ , much as he'd like to. Much as he's going to _need_ to if Poe does that thing with his tongue… He remembers that Poe likes having his hair played with, so he slides his fingers into the messy black curls, tugging gently, knees almost buckling when Poe hums his appreciation.

And he remembers that the first time they did this - the first time Finn ever did this with anyone - he was embarrassed because he didn't know what to do with his hands. 

_Do whatever you want,_ Poe said, grinning up at him, a pearl of pre-come glistening on his kiss-swollen bottom lip, making him look so beautifully debauched that Finn almost lost it right then and there. _This is for you._

 _S'fer you too,_ Finn managed to splutter out, and then he was proud of himself because, hey: actual words in an actual sentence. Mostly.

Poe's lashes flickered, color playing briefly across his cheeks. _You could put your hands in my hair,_ he suggested in such a painstakingly casual tone that _Finn_ felt broken open, like Poe had just introduced a whole new level of nakedness, for which he was utterly unprepared. _You could pull my hair._

So he did.

So he does, pushing it roughly back from Poe's forehead, tangling his fingers in the dark whorls and pulling them taut, while Poe's groan vibrates all through his bloodstream. Finn thinks dimly, _Fuck it. Anyone who hears wouldn't be stupid enough to open the door, and so long as they pretend they never heard…_ The rest of the thought gets lost as Poe takes him deep, then pulls back slowly, dragging his tongue along the thick vein. Looking up at Finn, his eyes gleaming mischievously even in the darkness, he closes his lips around the tip and sucks, and something in Finn's brain short-circuits. He shudders, his fingers twisting in Poe's hair, maybe pulling just a little too hard. But Poe doesn't seem to mind. Poe is holding him steady, his own fingers digging deep into the flesh of Finn's buttocks, spreading them - _oh, Force_ \- before swallowing him again.

"Fuck," Finn mutters, "fuck, _fuck_ , Poe--"

And Poe says something in response, because of course he has to say something, even when his mouth is full of dick, although it's utterly incomprehensible. He pushes two dry fingertips against Finn's opening, not penetrating, just teasing, and Finn has to bite down on a yelp. He can't control his vocalizing _and_ his hips, not while Poe is doing what he's doing, so he thrusts without meaning to, and Poe makes a surprised, choked sound, but when Finn starts to babble an apology, he laughs. He laughs quietly, his whole body shaking around Finn. His lashes are lowered, his cheeks flushed, his chin shiny with a thin film of drool and pre-come; he's _beautiful._ Then he does that thing with his tongue, that _swirl_ that Finn loves so much. And the words stutter out of Finn, "I'm gonna-- Poe, I'm-- Gonna. Poe--" But Poe doesn't pull back; if anything, he grips Finn tighter, like he's trying to squeeze the orgasm out of him. And Finn comes with a shout, like he knew he would, his hand tight in Poe's hair, and the darkness explodes in pinwheels of light.

When Finn comes back to himself a moment or two later, Poe is kissing his way back up his body: first his knees, then his thighs, then the bones of his hips, carefully pulling his trousers and underwear back up as he rises stiffly. When he's finally standing, Finn clasps his face and kisses him, tasting himself on Poe's lips. Poe lets himself be kissed and gently manhandled. When Finn pauses for breath, he brings their foreheads together and says with a grin, "D'you think anyone heard us?"

"Don't care," Finn says fiercely. And he means it, in this moment at least. 

"Good. D'you wanna go somewhere else? Our quarters, maybe? So you can fuck me, like I said?"

"Like you… Oh, that's what you were saying when you were…" _When you were on your knees, with my dick in your mouth. Yeah._

"Yeah. D'you wanna?"

It's possibly the most ridiculous question Finn has ever been asked. It might be the most ridiculous question he ever will be asked. _There. See? Now I'm thinking about the future._ But Poe is giving him that smile. That so-stunned-by-his-own-good-fortune-that-he-can't-quite-believe-it smile that only Finn ever gets to see. Finn traces it with his fingertips, wishing he could memorize it. But if he could hold it in his mind the way he holds facts and figures, would it always knock him senseless? The sound he makes isn't quite a word.

"So, is that a yes?" says Poe, eyebrows canting hopefully.

And Finn thinks, _I probably love you. I should probably tell you. Why can't I just tell you, like a normal human would?_

He doesn't know, so he just says, "Yes."

7/16/2016

**Author's Note:**

> This is for coffeeinallcaps, since I said I'd write her something if she could accurately guess when I actually started to cry while writing [On One Wounded Wing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7157171). And, as she reminded me, I did owe the boys some smut.
> 
> That was like a month ago. The reason this took so long is, first I wrote the story from Poe's POV, and set it in the future on Yavin 4. That didn't feel right, so I rewrote it from Finn's POV. That still didn't feel right, so I sent them back to sometime between episodes VII and VIII. This feels right. Though at some point I'd like finish that Yavin fic, where Finn is a little freaked out by the fact that the Force-sensitive tree is trying to give him its blessing to get it on with Poe.
> 
> *******
> 
> They're going to get caught. Sooner or later, his father or Rey is going to wake up, and of course they have no secrets from Rey, but Poe's _father_ is going to hear the noises coming from the backyard, and be too groggy to realize what it is he's hearing until--
> 
> Finn nibbles along Poe's jawline and laughs.
> 
> " _What_?" Poe groans. "Is the tree telling you _jokes_ now?"
> 
> "Nah, it's telling me to fuck you."
> 
> There is no possible way he heard that correctly.
> 
> "Well," Finn continues, and the words come slowly as he alternates between bites and sloppy kisses, "it wants me to make you happy, which right now I think means fucking. That would make _me_ happy. Wanna fuck you. Been wanting to all day, but someone was always around."
> 
> *******
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Yeahhh. (And then I got "I Talk to the Trees" from _Paint Your Wagon_ stuck in my head.)
> 
> Anyway, this wasn't supposed to be the sequel to anything, and it's not, but this Finn feels kind of like the one I was writing in [The Chapter Where You Decide to Stay.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5756359) So ... maybe? After they finally get their shit together?? But really, this began life as a standalone.


End file.
